


Prince of Krypton

by orphan_account



Series: Royals of Another World [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Child Dave, Chucklevoodooes, Developing Relationship, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Humans on Alternia, Other, Reader Insert, blood/gore, purpleblood shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 12:30:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3810481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Prince of Krypton

“Urgh, that idiot.” you mumbled, climbing over the fence and pulled your saber from your belt. The dull sounds of your whispering neighbors surrounded you, no doubt carrying rumors of whatever exotic species you kept in your hive. _Perfect._ People sniffing around your business was exactly what you wanted. Especially with that damn fishy bitch, may she rot from within, having made planetfall earlier this sweep. It was going to be near impossible to keep a secret now.

 

The hives around yours were thankfully darkened at this time of day, so you had little problem remaining hidden. You ran around the last few lawnrings until you reached the comforting barrier of spiny bushes keeping any sea assholes from entering your neighborhood. When you bent to climb through, your saber got caught on the branches, causing you to curse as you dropped to the ground. You crawled under the edge of the bushes and pulled yourself out with a few more scratches, before sprinting toward your hive looming large in your vision.

 

You quickly slipped through the back door and barred it behind you, before stomping up the stairs with your ire still hot as it was when you heard the first whispers. Really, you didn’t even know why you bothered, considering your _esteemed guest_ didn’t give a damn about keeping himself secret. You rounded the corner and threw the obnoxious orange door open, startling a tall, pale-skinned being with white hair enough for him to jump and lose his pointy sunglasses. He somehow managed to keep his impeccable poker face.

 

“Oh, Dirk, is there something you wanted to tell me?” you growled. Said human straightened himself, and shook his head.

 

“Nope, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary to report he-JESUS FUCK (y/n) PUT ME DOWN RIGHT THIS FUCKIN’ MINUTE!”

 

Naturally, you did no such thing, proceeding instead to hold Dirk in the air while you searched for a proper chewing out. He flailed in an interesting manner while you considered, punctuated by various cussing in the accent he tried so hard to conceal. Under ordinary circumstances, you may have been a little swayed by the rise and fall of his accent, but you were feeling rather angry at the moment.

 

You did turn away from him when you felt a small tug on your belt. You looked down to see the much smaller, but equally blond and poker faced, Strider pulling on you. Dave wore more normal sunglasses usually, but now they were off, exposing his crimson eyes. Admittedly, the first sight you had had of the two’s eyes almost sent you into a bloodrage, but now you were used to it.

 

Besides, he was _adorable._

 

“Did Bo do somethin’ bad again?” Dave asked calmly, looking up at his flailing, cursing clutchmate...brother...technical genetic predecessor? You didn’t even bother trying to keep up with the labels. Dirk was Dave’s lusus. Somehow. You needed some sleep.

 

“Yes, yes he did.” you said calmly, letting Dirk fall to the ground and ruffling Dave’s hair. “He did a very bad thing, even though I had _told_ him to be a bit more quiet with the combat training and...rapping.”

 

You glared at Dirk, who had gotten to his feet and was now glaring. “I understand the need for combat training, but why the hell is it necessary to do it on the _roof_? And do you really need to...rap...at all hours of the day? I’m amazed you haven’t gotten fried yet!”

 

Dirk straightened the collar of his shirt for a full minute before he answered you. “Theoretically, no, I don’t have to rap in the morning, but considering you go to bed at the ass crack of dawn and I’m used to getting _up_ at the ass crack of dawn, it’s the way the pattern goes. And the only place with enough room to strife is the roof. Plus, you were the one that put an awning up there.”

 

“I told you you could use my training room, didn’t I?” you shouted, throwing your hands up in the air. “My lusus could fit in there if they’d get out of the ocean, why isn’t that big enough for you?”

 

Dirk rolled his eyes. “You try flash stepping in there and tell me that again. There’s so much equipment around that I knock into something every time I try. I’m not teaching Dave in there. He’ll get hurt.”

 

You bit your lip and looked away. Fuck. You hadn’t thought of that.

 

“Okay, fine.” you muttered. “But please, for the love of all the ancestors, try to keep it down!”

 

“When I discover a way to strife without making a sound, I’ll be sure to let you know,” Dirk said, keeping his face straight through the whole sentence. He turned and walked back out the door, calling over his shoulder for Dave.

 

“C’mon little man. Since (y/n) doesn’t want us making too much _noise_ , we better finish up training before they have to sleep.”

 

Dave followed Dirk out like a little barkbeast, his eyes clinging to the older male with a serious case of hero worship. You waited until you could no longer hear their foot steps before letting out a long string of swears and running into your training area. You needed to hit something, and you needed to hit something _badly_. 

 

You could dimly hear the sound of fighting on the roof as you blasted through punching bag after punching bag, releasing low growls as you pummeled the bags. Stupid brilliant human with sharp eyes you never saw and more arrogance than that douchey seadweller that lived near you. Stupid human with his sarcasm and how he didn’t even try to hide his disdain for you. Stupid shining prince of another world.

 

You finally began to lose steam, slowing your punches before finally stopping and smacking your head against the nearest wall. You slowly slid to your knees with your head still pressed against the cool metal of the wall. The exercise had helped ease the burning voices in your mind, but the Messiahs still called out. You sighed and rolled onto the floor, breathing slowly to calm yourself more. Hopefully soon you would get an assignment from the Hangwoman. Dirk could handle anyone who came, and you needed a break from the sarcasm and constant jabs.

 

After a while, you pulled yourself up, groaning, and stretched, your hands gently grasping the monkey bars you had used as a wriggler. You went back up the stairs and went straight to your ablution block, not noticing that the sound of footsteps on your roof had ceased. You sighed in bliss as hot water pounded your sore back. It took you a moment to reach for the shampoo and start soaping your hair, but it was long enough to restore some sense of relaxation.

 

You were almost finished when the door opened and Dirk walked in, apparently uncaring that you were naked. You rolled your eyes and shut the water off, wrapping yourself in a towel and giving the human your best withering glare.

 

“If you hadn’t noticed, I was showering,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Considering how long _you_ take, I’d think you’d have some consideration for _my_ time spent contemplating my existence.”

 

“Normally? Yes. But there’s some teal douchebag on your front step sweating his metaphorical balls off with a scroll or something, and I figured you would want to deal with that yourself.” Dirk said, examining the handle of the sword he still held. You sighed and pushed him out the door, before shutting it and redressing yourself. Teals meant government most of the time, which meant either you’d pissed someone off or you had an assignment. 

 

You made your way downstairs with your hair still dripping wet, picking your mace up on the way, and threw the door open, balancing the weapon on your shoulder. You relished the look of sudden terror on the tealblood’s face.

 

“Uh-uh-y-you have an assignment from the courts, highblood,” he stuttered out, holding the scroll out to you. You plucked it out of his hands and waved him off. He scuttled away faster than you’d ever seen a troll move. You shut the door and set your mace down before you opened the scroll.

 

“Her Imperious Condescension wishes the culling of lowbloods, blah blah blah, in particular a certain cadre accused of rebelling against her majesty, blah blah blah, and she desires a servant of the Most Mirthful Messiahs to execute them in a manner befitting their lowness.” you mumbled, leaning back against the wall. So, you had to root out a cadre of rebels? Good.

 

You put your mace back and went to find Dirk and Dave. It didn’t take you long; they were both in your kitchen block. Dave had climbed up on the counter and was digging through your cabinets, probably in search of the cookies you had hidden up there. Dirk, however, was leaning against your table with a slight frown on his face.

 

“So, going on another murder spree?” he asked lightly, raising one pale eyebrow. You stilled, your mouth almost dropping open before you set your jaw and glared at the human. Dave looked between you and Dirk several times, clutching the cookies he had managed to find in both hands.

 

“I have orders from the crown to root out a nest of rebels,” you said icily, resting one hand on your hip. “I take these assignments to stay on power’s good side-and to keep you and your descendent safe, Strider. As you should already know.”

 

“Despite the fact that it’s, you know, murder. Aren’t you supposed to hate the empress, since you call her those names all the time? But you’re running off to do her bidding. I didn’t think you were a coward.”

 

You inhaled sharply, and clenched your fists enough to feel the skin split, putting them behind your back. Your head pulsed, and the voices roared in anger that this lowblood, this _mutant_ , would dare to insult you. How dare he. HOW FUCKING DARE HE! _You did this for him!_

 

You swallowed and attempted to calm yourself, releasing your hands and shaking them. Dirk’s face remained expressionless while you did so, even when you turned and walked over to the doorway. Before you left the room, you glanced over your shoulder with the best withering look you could manage to send the human.

 

“I don’t need to justify my choices to anyone but myself, Strider. You would do well to remember that.”

 

You made yourself walk slowly to your respiteblock, still fuming. But there was a lot of hurt mixed up with the anger. It was your _job_ to cull lowbloods. You had to stave off the song of the Mirthful Messiahs somehow, and if it kept you and your cl- your alien guests safe, that was an added benefit. And the Hangwoman would cull you herself if she got wind of a subjugglator acting with mercy. Besides, they were just lowbloods.

 

Right?

 

_If the humans were trolls, you would cull them on sight of their blood. Not flush for the adult and click for the wriggler._

 

You shook the thoughts out of your head as you began to throw supplies and clothes into your pack. You threw an extra weapon in there for good measure. Your mace should be enough(the saber was too awkward for you to bring, as your little jaunt earlier had proved), but one could never really have enough weapons.

 

You finished quickly and looked out the window. The sun really was getting close to rising, which meant you wouldn’t be able to leave now, not until nighttime. Oh well. It wasn’t like you had expected to leave today, you were still exhausted from your earlier exertions.

 

You shut your respiteblock’s door and threw your clothes off; you could clean them up when you woke. The sunlight began to peek through your window, and you hastily closed the blackout curtains before you acquired a sizzle. You climbed up on top of your coon and slid into the welcoming green sopor, the cool feeling a welcome embrace after the stressful day. Banishing thoughts of the anger you had sensed in Dirk, your eyes slid shut(almost of their own accord), and sleep’s embrace took hold of you.

 

***

 

You woke early, stretching and almost tripping over yesterday’s clothes, and were relieved to hear that Dirk had not yet woken up. He’d be pacing, or you’d hear the clatter of dishes as he attempted to prepare food. You could hear a slight patter of small feet as you changed, though, which you expected. Dave sometimes woke up even before you did. You wanted to make sure he wouldn’t do anything dangerous while you were gone before Dirk woke up, so doubly good for you.

 

You crept down the stairs with your repacked bag slung over your shoulder, and went into your kitchen block to grab a snack. You were greeted with a small human eating one of your fruits on the counter with an empty cookie box next to him. You rolled your eyes. You were half convinced Dave had some sort of mutant clinging powers. Otherwise, how would he keep getting all the sweets that you made certain to hide?

 

“Davey?” you asked softly. He almost jumped at the sound of your voice, but to his credit, he managed to keep calm.

 

“Yeah?” he asked, taking another bite of the fruit.

 

“I’m going on my assignment, okay?” you said gently, walking over to the wriggler and lifting him down from the counter. He squeaked in protest when you placed him back on the floor. “So you better not go running off into the outside again. Even if Dirk’s face when I found you was very funny.”

 

Dave nodded, not saying anything. You crouched down to his level, now a little worried. Normally he’d say something to the effect of ‘don’t die’ before you left. You placed a hand against his forehead as you’d seen Dirk do once, to see if he was sick. You couldn’t tell anything was different, though; he still felt hotter than the sun’s rays to your skin. You guessed it was since they would be mutants if they were trolls. You ran cool, after all.

 

You gasped when Dave ran forward and hugged you tightly. It didn’t really hurt, but it did surprise you. You hugged him back gently, trying your best not to hurt him. He was a tiny, fragile thing, even though Dirk trained him so much. And you were a highblood.

 

“Okay, Davey, what’s wrong?” you murmured. Dave was apparently trying to bury himself in your hair; you lifted your chin and tucked his head in the crook of your neck. You began to make soft clicking sounds in the back of your throat, sounds generally only used with a troll’s quadrants or their clutch. They were supposed to calm others, though before Dirk and Dave showed up you’d never had a reason to use them.

 

Dave stayed tucked under your chin for a minute, before wiggling out and giving you a small glare that you were pretty sure was supposed to mimic Dirk’s death glare. You suppressed a giggle. He looked adorable with the little pout and his glasses slipping down his nose.

 

“You’re gonna come back, right?” Dave asked, his voice wavering slightly. Your eyes widened, and without thinking, you scooped him up, clicking in an attempt at comfort you barely knew how to provide. His glasses fell off in the movement and clattered against the table.

 

“Of course I’m coming back, Dave,” you said, walking back and forth in the block. The Messiahs were silent for once, appearing to be as shocked as you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

 

“Bo said you were gonna leave and we’d have to go away again when you left. And I don’t want you to leave.” he mumbled into your shoulder, a small, clear tear dripping off of his cheek and onto your shirt.

 

You froze in your pacing. It felt a little like being stabbed through the gut, and then having someone twist the blade just so. Or like having molten lead poured into your stomach. For the first time in a long while, you felt tears start to form in your eyes.

 

“I won’t ever leave you, Dave. I promise.” you whispered, barely managing to choke back the hurt sob bubbling up in your throat. Your voice still wavered, though, and when Dave looked up from your shoulder, his eyes widened at the thin tear line on your cheek.

 

“You cry purple,” he said in wonder, reaching up and brushing the wetness off your cheek. You laughed wetly, bending and bopping your nose against his.

 

“Of course I cry purple, silly. I bleed purple.”

 

You carried Dave back up the stairs to his block, strangely empty. Maybe Dirk was taking another infinite shower. You carefully deposited him on his nest, and wrapped him up in the red blanket you’d bought from a rustblood you saw at market. You glanced out of the window as you did so, and saw that the moons were much higher than the time at which you had planned to leave. You put it out of your mind; you’d make up the time on the way.

 

“Hey,” you whispered conspiratorially. “If Dirk’s being more of an ass than usual, or even if he isn’t...I hid the minty cookies under the fridge’s vegetable drawer.”

 

Dave didn’t grin, but you did see a tiny quirk of his upper lip. He’d regained his shades, but that didn’t stop him from hugging you one last time. You purred slightly, nuzzling into his hair, before you stood up and left. Dave waved goodbye to you as you went down the stairs.

 

You didn’t notice the shadow of the older Strider watching you from the corner.

 

***

 

You wiped the sweat from your brow as you studied the map carefully. Judging by the desert like terrain surrounding you, and the description of the rebel’s base area, you guessed you were getting close. The mace in your hand was heavy, and the burning in your mind was getting worse by the second. You couldn’t wait for this to be over.

 

The wind abruptly grew still, and you cursed quietly. Theoretically, you might have been able to smell any other trolls if the wind blew, but with it still you’d practically be in their hair before you got a whiff. Your hearing was still good, though, so perhaps that could help.

 

You began to climb up the sandy hill, carefully watching your path for any rocks. Your legs were just starting to burn, but thankfully you weren’t too tired. Yet. You rubbed your eyes to get rid of the sweat, but froze when you picked up sounds coming from somewhere close to you. Instinctively, you dropped to your belly and peeked over the edge of the bluff.

 

There were trolls down there, all right, and a well hidden door of soft brown stone. Not too many trolls, thankfully, so getting through them into the inside should be easy. The Messiahs hissed in pleasure at the thought. You allowed yourself a small, sharp toothed grin, before you shifted forward and almost fell of the cliff.

 

You were ninety percent sure there was a human down there.

 

It looked like a female, though from this distance it was hard to tell. Curly black hair topped her head. She wore a skirt washed grey and worn ragged, but as she twirled in a lazy circle she laughed like she wore a robe of fine silk. A troll spun with her, following her movements with xir dark clothes billowing around xir, like xe was the human’s shadow. Several other trolls laughed as they danced some strange dance, staring into each other’s eyes. A small bit of pain burst in your heart; loneliness, jealousy, but you shook it off.

 

Human or not, you had orders. You’d have to tell Dirk about her when you got home, and he wouldn’t be happy, but it wasn’t like he would know that human in particular, right? What would the odds of that be?

 

You stood, and were about to jump down and bash in the skull of the laughing burgundy closest to the cliff, when your heart dropped out of your chest. A tiny human wriggler, with the same black hair as the adult, came out of the building. It grinned a huge grin, and when the adult bent to pick it up, she was blasted in the face by a stream of water coming from the wriggler’s hand. She laughed, and gave the little one a high five, to which it responded enthusiastically. Its black hair blew everywhere in the wind.

 

But you didn’t see black hair. You saw gold.

 

Nausea rippled through your body, and you staggered away from the cliff, hand over your mouth. Your mace fell to the ground as you vomited up everything you had eaten on the way there, pain jolting through your body. The taste of iron flooded your mouth, and the screams of your gods grew to a shrieking din, drowning out all other sound. Candy red blood dripped from your hands, mixed with gold and black hair. Your eyes filled with tears, and before you could stop yourself a shriek burst from your lips.

 

The Messiahs ceased their screams. The vision faded, revealing your hands as clean except for dirt and sweat. You blinked the tears from your eyes, only to realize the rebels were silent. Then, you heard the shouts of fear and the scrabbling of hands on stone. You jumped to your feet and ran as fast as you could, leaving the mace behind.

 

You couldn’t do this.

 

Tears dripped from your face as you ran. It was only a vision. It couldn’t have been true. You would never cull Dave and Dirk. The Messiahs just wanted you to hurt, to punish you. It didn’t happen. It wasn’t real.

 

You ran farther and faster than you ever had, and by the time you saw your lawnring the sun was rising and you were ready to die. You could barely muster the energy to limp toward the door, and when you did reach it you simply collapsed on your front steps. You really, really wanted to sleep. Maybe you could sleep here. Surely your house’s shadow would protect you from the sun….

 

The door opened, and someone yanked you by your shoulders into your hive. You welcomed the cooling darkness with a sigh as you thudded against your foyer floor and somebody slammed your hive’s door. Or at least you did until you were faced with two pairs of shaded eyes. the smaller figure dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around you.

 

“I told you they would come back,” Dave muttered, burying his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, ignoring the tears streaming down your face. He was alive. He was alive. You told yourself you wouldn’t have hurt him or Dirk. You promised.

 

“(y/n)....”

 

You looked up at Dirk. Strangely, his shades were slipping off his nose, enough so you could see an arched brow and a hint of orange iris above the smooth black plastic. If you didn’t know better, you would say there was a worried twist to his mouth.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding like the sentence was bitter in his mouth. You shuddered, again seeing the blood, the blood everywhere. You tightened your grip on the wriggler hiding in your hair, and shook your head violently. “No. No I’m not.”

 

You sat up, still holding Dave in your arms, and just managed to get to your feet. You staggered, though, and the same moment you did Dave was out of your arms, safely perched on the older Strider’s shoulders. Dave made a protesting sound, raising his arms to you, but you raised a hand to stop him.

 

“It’s okay, Davey,” you said weakly, rubbing your eyes. “I’m going to the ablution block, Dirk-I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

 

The pounding of the water did little to relieve your pain this time. Though you felt clean when you got out and pulled on some soft clothes you normally used for sleeping, your mind still hurt and your legs were practically jelly. When you collapsed onto the first soft surface you saw, in your darkened entertainment block, the appearance of Dirk sans Dave a moment later didn’t make you feel much better.

 

“What the fuck did you do to yourself?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the couch. You threw your arm over your eyes.

 

“I ran half of the way back here and had an extremely violent vision,” you mumbled. “I’m not exactly in top condition.”

 

Dirk was silent for a moment. You failed to conceal your surprise when he took his shades off and began to mess with them. He turned back to you with fully bare eyes, the first time you’d ever seen him without them. “Is that why you were hanging on to Dave back there?”

 

Your mouth tightened. “What, afraid about your son getting hugged by a murderer?”

 

Dirk froze, and for a second you thought you saw his lips part in shock. But then his face closed up again, and he smiled a thin, sharp smile. His eyes glinted coldly in the dim light. “Considering you didn’t kill any of them, that label wouldn’t be precise. I’m glad you took my advice.”

 

Your eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

 

Dirk rolled his eyes. “Oh please. You’re not bloody, and from what I’ve gathered about your Messiahs, they wouldn’t have tortured you if you hadn’t done something to piss them off.”

 

“...Okay, I guess that would have been obvious,” you grumbled, turning your head away.

 

Wait. Humans. Can’t forget the humans.

 

You sat up quickly despite the jolt of pain that followed, and pressed a hand to your forehead with a wave of sudden dizziness. Dirk leaned forward, placing a burning hand on your shoulder. You looked at him in confusion. He then moved and sat next to you.

 

“What’s wrong?’ he asked quietly, giving you a look that you took to mean as ‘you better not lie to me, because I will know and it will piss me off’.

 

“There were two humans at the rebel’s camp. An adult and a wriggler.” you said, studying the scuffs on your boots from your sprint back home. Dirk’s face went pale, and he grabbed you by the shoulder and pulling your closer. You yelped in surprise. His face had the most emotion on it that you had ever seen; fear, shock, pain.

 

“What did they look like?” he demanded, actually having the nerve to shake you. You were too shocked to get mad, though.

 

“Black hair, skin darker than yours,” you rattled off, bringing back all the details you could muster. “The adult looked like a female. Her hair was curly, and she had glasses. That’s all I could see.”

 

Dirk abruptly stood up and walked to the other side of the room. “Jane,” he mumbled. He dropped to his knees and pulled out another one of his swords from under the other couch. You blanched.

 

“How in the Messiah’s name did you fit that under there?” you asked. “Wait, are there others in the hive?”

 

“Doesn’t matter.” Dirk said tightly. He grabbed your arm and pulled you up. You stumbled after him, slightly concerned that he could even pull you up. Not counting your horns, you had quite a few inches on him, and you weren’t the lightest troll in the world.

 

“I know you’re tired and you won’t be able to get us there yet, but I need you to take me and Dave to where you found them.” Dirk spun the sword around quickly, and you jumped out of the way. A pit began to form in your stomach; Dirk _did_ know the humans, or at least the adult. Now he wanted to leave.

 

“So, you...know her? The other human?” you asked, attempting to hide the tremor in your voice. Dirk didn’t even notice. You weren’t exactly sure what he was doing, with all of his frantic movement and occasional flash stepping. But you guessed he was moving because he simply couldn’t stay still.

 

“Her name is Jane Crocker. She was with me, Jake, and Roxy when your sea Hitler’s people snatched us. I don’t know what she named her kid.”

 

You began to chew on your lip from nervousness. “And...you want to just go off and meet them?”

 

He slowed his rapid movements, and finally came to a stop, before turning to you. Your heart dropped out from your chest when you saw the absolutely livid look on his face. The pit in your stomach grew heavier.

 

“And just _what,_ ” he asked, every word pronounced precise and cutting. “would you expect me to do otherwise?”

 

He took a step forward, crossing his arms over his chest. You could see where his fingers were twitching, tapping against his tanned arm. You slowly raised your hands, attempting to slow your breathing and calm yourself. The Messiahs called for blood, and you viciously tamped them down with a few choice mental words.

 

“I’ve just discovered I am not, in fact, the only human on this godforsaken excuse of a planet; and that one of my closest friends is _alive_ , is _here_ , and you expect me to just fucking _sit_ here?” he spat. You tried to speak, but the only thing that came out of your mouth was a weak click. He...he was a lot angrier than you thought….

 

“Dirk, you can’t just go. The Hangwoman knows I failed, and she’ll be waiting to hear my explanation,” you pleaded. The sickness in your stomach was coming to a height. “Look, I-I promise, as soon as I can, I’ll bring you and Dave to where I found them. But not now. She’ll kill you-anyone else would kill you. And I won’t let that happen.”

 

The tension remained in his face and body, before he finally let his arms fall to his sides. He exhales in an angry huff, replacing the sword in his specibus in one fluid motion. He looked off to the side while you attempted to calm yourself. You tried to breathe, but your blood pumper was burning and it wasn’t a pleasant sensation.

 

“Fine,” he huffs. “But don’t think I won’t hold you to that, (y/n)-”

 

Below you both, on the lower floors, Dave screamed.

 

Dirk’s head snapped up, and for a moment, his and your eyes met in perfect synchronization. You saw the look of horror on his face, and you knew he saw the same thing on yours. He leapt from the room a moment later, running down the hall and jumping over the banister when he was halfway down the stairs. You almost threw yourself into the wall following him.

 

He skidded around the corner a second before you did, blunt teeth bared in a snarl. The trolls standing in your kitchen block froze, one of them holding a kicking and screaming Dave in his arms. You barely registered that they were both draped in the purple of your blood caste before rage turned your vision red. The snarl that bubbled from your throat wasn’t anything you had ever heard yourself produce before.

 

Dirk started forward with his sword drawn before the other troll’s fingers flew to her temples, and you had no time to warn him before a wave of intense fear rolled into both of your minds. The world gained a dark purple tint; you gasped in pain when in the same moment the troll holding Dave slammed his fist into your head, dangerously close to your horns. You screamed, and then the Messiahs began to dance in your vision, bright and mocking. They pointed at you, and suddenly there were hundreds of trolls surrounding you, shouting, laughing.

 

They came to you with darkness pouring from their eyes, looking at you with huge grins, showing their needle like teeth. One of them walked forward, to Dirk, who was now frozen in place, staring at them. The subjugglator stepped forward and shoved their hand through Dirk’s chest, yanking out his heart. Bright cherry blood spattered the ground, and you shrieked.

 

The purple got thicker, and thicker, until you couldn’t see anything but it all around you. Your head hurt, and you could feel thousand of knives digging into your skin. The screaming wouldn’t stop, and you knew most of it came from your own mouth. Dirk was dead, Dave was as good as dead, _you had failed them-_

 

The darkness that came with the blow to your head was a blessing.

 

***

 

When you woke, all you could smell was smoke.

 

You coughed, sitting up and rubbing your eyes blearily, and froze. Your hive was in ruins, smoldering with the remains of fire. You yourself were streaked in soot, your arms caked with blood that had dripped down from your head. When you reached up a hand to your head, you could feel the blood matting your hair.

 

The ground was clean of red, which confirmed your hope that the vision of Dirk getting murdered was just that, a vision. But there was no trace of the two humans around you. There was, however, a scrap of fabric on the ground fluttering in the breeze. You picked it up and turned it over, to see the Hangwoman’s symbol emblazoned on the black cloth.

 

Your hands clenched, a deep, cold rage beginning to fill your mind. Tremors began to rack your body, your shoulders heaving as you gasped for breath. But there wasn’t going to be any calming yourself down now. Abruptly, you straightened, the tremors disappearing as your eyes turned a deep, poisonous orange. You giggled, once, twice, before turning on your heel and heading into the ruins of your hive, searching for your spare mace.

 

When you came up with the fire blackened weapon, your mouth stretched into a wide grin, showing your teeth. You strapped it to your belt and cracked your knuckles, leaving what was left of your hive behind. That pride-swollen bitch should have known better than to take your clutch from you.

 

Trolls parted from the path as you walked into the city, skittering away with terror written on their faces. No doubt the Hangwoman had already spread the word of your actions, but no sane troll would face a subjugglator in a bloodrage willingly. You didn’t mind, and the ones who didn’t move were soon out of the way. By the time you reached the low warehouse you knew housed the Hangwoman’s court, you were spattered with brilliant colors.

 

The troll who opened the door was thrown into the wall, her skull neatly bashed in. A spray of teal hit your legs, and you kicked aside what was left of her body as you entered the building. Cobwebs hung from the ceilings and walls, and the purple light bulbs used in the sockets cast a demonic tint over everything. You rolled your eyes. The Hangwoman’s sense of theatricality was well known, but you’d think the bitch would take herself a little more seriously.

 

As you reached the inner parts of the building, more trolls came out of the woodwork to attack you. You slew them all, not even bothering to do it slowly although the Messiahs urged you to do so. Dave and Dirk were in danger, and you didn’t have the time. When they were safe, you would dedicate some time to peeling the flesh from the Hangwoman’s bones. But for now, there would be quick death. Your shoes were beginning to squish as you walked.

 

Slowly, you approached the large door to the Hangwoman’s inner sanctum, and tiptoed past it. Your destination was the floor above it, with the open part to see her throne, and also where they would keep the slaves. That would make an excellent place to watch her from, and it would also give you a decent chance of finding Dave and Dirk.

 

You crept up the stairs, shedding you shoes and throwing them in a dark corner; they were making too much noise for your taste. The railing around the opening was lined by cages; most of them were filled, whether with dried skeletons, trolls staring empty eyed at the ceiling, or the large barkbeasts the Hangwoman liked to keep. The few empty ones were streaked with dirt and had rats skittering out from the corners. None of them held the shining-eyed prince you were looking for.

 

The cage at the end of the row, however, held a wriggler crying behind his shades and huddled into a corner, trying to make himself small. You hissed in rage and gripped the bars, pulling as hard as you could. For a moment, nothing happened, but then with a quiet groan they pulled apart and you gasped for breath. Dave looked up from his hands, and you could see his eyes widen over the top of the shades.

 

“(y-y/n)?” he asked, getting up and backing away from you. You frowned and held your arms out to the human.

 

“Don’t wooooorry, Davey,” you sang softly. “I’m never, ever going to hurt you...I just want to hurt the people who took you and your brother from me.”

 

You smiled sweetly at the wriggler, who took a hesitant step forward and then all but barreled into your arms, wiggling through the opening and latching onto your torso. His body shook with soft sobs, and you gently patted him on the back, ignoring the patches of blood you were leaving on his shirt.

 

“Those motherfuckers will think the Dark Carnival is a blessing when I’m done with them,” you muttered. “Now, Dave, did you see where they took your brother?”

 

“The-the lady with the bones kept him near her,” Dave whispered into your neck. He was trying to twist himself into your hair. “She said h-he’d make a pretty slave, with his eyes and his blood.”

 

Dave looked up at you, the shades now half falling off his face. “Are...are they gonna hurt Bo?”

 

You shook your head. “I won’t let them.”

 

The two of you made your way around the the balcony, intending to work around to the entrance and track down Dirk, when the door burst open. You froze, and Dave whimpered, as the eight foot tall Hangwoman entered the room, followed by a cerulean aide, and dragging someone by a chain around their neck. Your blood boiled when you recognized the sharp shades on his face.

 

“Are you telling me,” the Hangwoman said quietly, tapping her fingers on her hip. “that the failure of a subjugglator has somehow managed to slay half of the people I sent to kill them, and that they are loose somewhere in my compound?”

 

To his credit, the cerulean answered without a trace of fear. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sure we’ll find them quickly, though.”

 

“Perhaps,” the Hangwoman murmured, seating herself on her throne. “Perhaps not.”

 

She yanked on the chain, and Dirk came stumbling forward, landing on his knees at the Hangwoman’s feet. He glared up at her, his shades having fallen to the ground in the motion. She simply studied his features, running her claws up and down his face and leaving faint red lines against the paleness of his skin. You growled helplessly from your hiding place. Dave papped your cheek.

 

“You’re a pretty one,” she mused, yanking harshly on the chain again. He gasped in pain. “I see why the heretic wanted to keep you all to themselves. And such lovely eyes! You’ll fetch a high price, make no mistakes, even with mutant blood.”

 

“I think you’ll find I won’t make the best slave,” Dirk spat, pure hate in his voice. She lifted one eyebrow, arching into the chaos spirals of her face paint.

 

“I doubt it. Everyone breaks eventually.”

 

You couldn’t take any more. You quickly pulled Dave off of you, placed him in the hiding spot, and ran out into the floor. The cerulean was very good, indeed; he dropped his papers the second you moved out and pulled a baton from his specibus. He wasn’t quite good enough, though, and his head hit the floor with a wet smack as you stalked toward the Hangwoman. The only reaction she gave was the slight part of her lips. Dirk stared at you, his eyes wide, as you came forward.

 

The Hangwoman got to her feet, the end of Dirk’s leash clattering to the ground as she did so. Dirk immediately sprinted toward your hiding spot, but you ignored him. The older troll towered over you, her left hand resting on her hip and the other holding a black whip at the ready.

 

“‘I was expecting you-” she began, only for you to suddenly jump up and tackle her, a screech coming from your throat as you threw your own voodooes at her. She wound up flat on her back with you crouching on her chest, purple burning in her eyes. The Hangwoman stared up at you, and you grinned sharply when you saw a hint of fear on her face.

 

“Sorry,” you purred. “I’m not in the mood to listen.”

 

Before you struck, in the corner you saw Dirk cover Dave’s eyes.

 

***

 

The walk to the rebels’ base would end up taking most of the day, with you and Dirk taking turns carrying a now sleeping Dave. You had managed to retrieve Dirk’s katana from the armory on your way out of the warehouse, but other than that and your mace, you two were gearless. You had paused at a small stream to get a drink and for you to wash what you could of the blood from yourself and your clothes.

 

You had come down from your bloodrage at this point, and you were exhausted. Dirk hadn’t spoken to you since you had left the city, and you were beginning to think he would kill you as soon as you arrived at the base. Surely he wouldn’t want Dave around you-for the ancestors’ sakes, the poor child was covered in blood when Dirk got him again! You couldn’t exactly blame him for not trusting you.

 

When you got to the edge of the forest, faced with the desert, you suggested that the three of you break. All you got was a grunt as Dirk headed for the trees, carefully scraping a pile of leaves up and placing Dave on them gently, so he wouldn’t wake up. You followed the human, staring at your boots, No matter how hard you had scrubbed them, there were still streaks of blue and green in the creases of the leather.

 

Dirk settled down next to you, underneath the tree’s wide branches. For a good while, you two sat in silence only broken by Dave’s breathing. Dirk kept his katana balanced on his knees. He still hadn’t replaced the shades on his face.

 

You leaned your head against the tree, breathing slowly. You thought about leaning your head on Dirk’s shoulder, but thought better of it and shook your head to clear it.

 

“You could have left us.”

 

You blinked, and turned to Dirk. He was staring out at the forest, with a peculiar set to his jaw. One of his hands rested on Dave’s side, as if he was afraid to let the wriggler go.

 

“Why would I have done that?” you asked, genuine confusion lacing your voice. He scoffed.

 

“It would have been easy,” he stated tightly. “You leave, and no one cares about your mutant pets. Most likely we die, but you don’t get hurt for it.”

 

You rolled your eyes. Oh, and how would that have worked out? “My death was already planned, so no, it wouldn’t have saved me. And like fuck I would have left you there.”

 

Dirk jerked around and glared at you, the heat in it making you scoot away. “I don’t understand why.”

 

You closed your eyes. “Because I care about you and Dave more than anyone else. Because Dave is like a clutchmate to me. Because...I’m flushed for you.”

 

It felt rather like a weight lifted off your chest, at least for the moment before the dread settled in. You took a deep breath, hoping to keep yourself from bursting into tears. The next moment, he would be disgusted. Or he would kill you, or he would simply go silent. And you’d lose him forever.

 

“I think I’d be okay with that.”

 

You froze, and for a moment you were certain the world had stopped turning. When you looked at Dirk, he was looking back at you. His eyes weren’t exactly soft, but...they weren’t hard, and they weren’t hateful.

 

That was good enough for you.

 

“I mean, not right now,” he continued. “Let’s make sure we don’t die, and maybe get showers and some food, but after that, why the hell not?”

 

You smiled, widely, and against your will a grin came to your face. “Yeah...that sounds good.”

 

The wind blew gently over both of you, sending a few leaves spiraling down from the trees. For a moment, you hesitated, but then you shifted closer and laid your head on Dirk’s shoulder. He stiffened, and you waited for the request to move. Instead, his arm came up and wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

 

And for the first time in a while, you thought everything was going to be okay.


End file.
